Weekend Guest
There is a place in my heart
like an old empty room
The weekend a memory
of my lover and new friend.
Purely random thoughts
float like butterfly wings
through narrow beams of light
that some unseen hand had lit.
We made love on well worn furniture
draped in white linen
shadows vague and unseen
until morning sun.
Open the curtains my love
let in the light
banish thoughts from darkness
with fresh scent of day.
My weekend guest
of sweet caress
prepare to be blessed
with ardent tenderness....
~ ~
Copyright © Ken Carroll | Year Posted 2014
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